Stumble
by harvincy
Summary: Piers is drunk and Chris tries to help him to his room. M for m/m and lingerie shenanigans.


The first two pieces of a story I'm continuing on my tumblr. Enjoy the first part!

* * *

Stumble.

I've never seen him like this before: Stumbling, face indelibly flush, words slurring.

I know how mortified he's going to be when he realizes he's letting the whole platoon see him this way. It may be two days before we ship off and we may be in an actual bar, but Piers Nivans never lets his facade of cool and collected slip, never lets his emotions shine through.

So the fact that he's laughing uncontrollably at a joke that only he can hear while knocking back yet another shot of vodka is a bit surprising. A song he happens to know streams through the smoky space and he immediately begins gyrating on the floor, much to the amusement of his fellow soldiers.

I have to help him. He'll never be able to live this down as it is, much less if it were to go further.

Slipping between the men now gathering around the incoherent mess that is Piers, I slip one arm around his waist and begin to lead him back to his room, where I can lock him up and let him dry out.

Echoes of laughter follow us into the hotel foyer and I'm very thankful that the management isn't coming down hard on us for all the noise we've been making.

Piers and I are halfway to the elevators when I feel warm breath skate over my neck and he whispers, "May I ask what we're doing?"

"I'm bringing you to your room, Piers," I reply, blatantly ignoring the warmth of his body pressed against mine. "You're drunk off your ass."

He giggles, _**giggles**_, "What 'bout my ass?"

"Dear christ." We finally make it to the elevator and I thank whatever god's listening that it opens almost immediately. Especially since I find myself shoved against the doors as soon as they close behind us. "Nivans...?"

The boy's nuzzling my neck, his hands seemingly everywhere at once. "Cap'ain?"

I'm almost afraid to risk my voice, knowing there will be a slight hitch to it. But then his lips begin trailing down my jaw and it snaps me to reality. Grabbing his hands, I attempt to make him stop, but the doors slide open and we find ourselves falling to the ground.

Piers uses my loss of momentum to take advantage of the situation and he straddles my waist, the evidence of his arousal rubbing against me quite prominently.

Before he can do further damage, I grab his wrist flip us over, scrambling to my feet and pulling him up with me. Great, we had witnesses. Lovely.

His room's only ten doors away, but it feels like it's miles; he's constantly struggling in my arms, but not from irritation— he's horny.

"Jus' lemme kiss you," he slurs in my ear as his hand takes a firm grip on the front of my pants. "Yer cock feels _**HUGE**_, Cap'tain."

"Fuckin' hell..." There's no use in fighting him so I just struggle down the hall, Piers squirming all the way, his hands and lips attacking whatever part of me he can get.

We make it to his room. "Where's your key, Nivans?"

He laughs, taking a step back and raising his arms. "C'mere an' find it, Cap'tain."

God. Damn. It. "Soldier, give me your key."

"Is that an order?" He's smiling, far from intimidated; there's no way he's going to listen to me.

Fine.

Shoving him against the wall, I immediately begin fishing through his pockets when he grips my wrists and begins grinding into my hand. "Piers!"

"Juss lemme kiss you an' I'll give you tha key."

This is getting fucking nowhere. Checking to make sure no one else is around us, I take a deep breath and press my lips tentatively to his, attempting to pull back almost instantly.

But Piers is on me like we're magnetized, so flush against me that it's hard to tell where I start and he ends. His tongue doesn't ask for permission to enter my mouth; it's demands it. And, fuck, it's been too long since...

This is wrong. I try to pry the kid off of me but it's damn near impossible, so I do the only thing I can think of: bite his tongue.

"Shit!" Piers hops back, but instead of seeing anger or irritation in his gaze, his pupils have widened in lust, his hard-on proudly on display.

Shit. "Nivans, you said I'd have the key if I kissed you. C'mon."

A group of people are rounding the corner and heading towards us; the last thing I want is for Piers to make an ass of himself in front of strangers. "Piers, listen, if you open the door, I'll... give you a surprise..."

Like a bullet, Nivans retrieves the key from a back pocket and swipes open the door, practically falling over the threshold and pulling me with him. "I wan' my surprise," he breathes in my ear, giving it a nip.

I'm back in his arms, his lips latching onto my neck, his hands sliding down to my groin, one deft hand making quick work of my zipper and squirming it's way into my pants. "Piers..." I should sound more firm, should sound like a Captain. But it all feels much, much too good.

And I've found my gaze lingering a little too long on Piers before; he's a good looking kid, a good soldier, a good man.

And he's damn talented with his hands and his lips and I have no idea how I'm going to walk out of this room now.

Especially since he's now on his knees, his lips forming a perfect 'O' before encircling the tip of my cock.

"Piers..." I'm supposed to be telling him to stop, but I'm moaning, falling back onto the bed and twining my fingers in his hair. But it's wrong. It's wrong. It's wrong... right?

I'm his Captain; he's my soldier. And his tongue is incredible.

I'm bucking into his mouth now, trying my damnedest not to choke the poor kid, but it's almost goddamn impossible.

But Piers is taking it, flattening his tongue and running it underneath my shaft as he pumps his head furiously along my length, sucking me closer and closer to the edge.

I _**have**_to get a hold of myself. I can't let him do this. "P-Piers... Piers." I grip his head and pull him back, shoving my cock roughly back in my pants before he can have a chance to attack me again. "I'm sorry, Piers, but we can't do this now, not... not now."

He looks like a struck puppy, but I have to show _**some**_ willpower.

Right?

"Al-alright," he stammers, not moving from his spot on the floor, his eyes downcast.

Can I really leave him like this? Gingerly, I wrap my arms around his torso and lift him, taking a moment to just take him in.

He really is a good looking kid. And an incredible kisser. I can't help myself, and I don't bother to try stopping myself as I steal one more chaste kiss before helping him onto the bed, removing his boots, and helping him adjust under the comforter.

"'Night, Kid," I murmur, making my way to the door.

"Hey... Hey, Cap'ain," he calls softly as I hit the door.

"Yeah, Nivans?"

"Goo' night'."

"Good night, Kid."

"Hey, Cap'ain."

I sigh, the door halfway closed. "Yeah?"

"You really _**do**_have a huge cock."

I have to laugh. "Thanks, Nivans." Closing the door, I take a deep breath before heading to my own room, feeling in need of a cold shower.

Maybe one day I'll spare a true moment with Piers. Maybe. One day.

* * *

I've decided to give Piers a hard time. The rest of the soldiers may have reservations about jostling him a little bit, but I certainly don't.

Especially after what he did last night. God, did I have dreams about that... I can still feel what it was like to have those perfect lips circling my cock, that wet tongue run up and down—

He's finally entered the room the hotel has designated for the free continental breakfast. And he looks like shit: Blood-shot eyes complete with dark circles, face still flush from the alcohol still stubbornly coursing through his system, bit of a stagger to his normally forceful walk.

He's adorable. You know, in that stumbling puppy kinda way.

I'm the only one from our troop still in here, and the only reason I'm still here is because I was waiting to see if he'd actually beat the deadline of 10am for breakfast. Well, he did. By two minutes. And there's barely anything left, which is made starkly clear when he goes to pour himself a cup of coffee and curses due to the overwhelming absence of caffeine in the jug.

"They've still got orange juice," I pipe in, purposefully loud.

Piers jumps and grabs the counter before him, his head whipping around so fast he appears dizzy for a moment.

I keep my tone loud as I say, "Morning, Soldier!" and offer a much-too-bright smile, laughing as he winces and grabs his head, leaning against the counter for needed support.

"M-morning, Cap'ain." He pauses, takes a breath, tries again, "Morning, Captain Redfield."

"Chris. Please." I sip from my coffee mug languidly, showing off the beverage that's evaded him when he needs it most. "Had a fun night?"

He knows I'm giving him shit, knows I'm screwing with him with the coffee, but I can see it in his eyes that he doesn't know _**why**_.

"They have bananas, too," I comment, picking said fruit up that happens to be laying conveniently before me, peeling it slowly and taking a much-too-pointed bite from the tip.

Piers' eyes narrow in a foggy remembrance, as if he realizes he _**should **_know what I'm talking about, but just can't grasp it. "Uh... Yeah, okay..." Shaking his head, he turns back to the counter, but not before sparing me once last glance as I subtly lick the side of the banana.

Our newest troop pops his head in, but I'll be damned if I remember his name. "Captain? Call for you in the lobby."

Standing, I stretch slowly, moaning a bit as I feel my muscles relaxing. I make a point to walk right by Piers as I exit, murmuring in his ear, "Might be the big guy, wanting to give me a _**surprise**_." I know for a fact that Piers remembers _**something **_as I hear him gasp and drop his orange juice when I cross the threshold of the room.

* * *

Maybe teasing Piers wasn't the best idea I've ever had, but I really couldn't help myself. Problem is, we ship out in the morning and I haven't been able to pin-point the kid.

I thought I glimpsed him running to the pool earlier, but, if he was there, he was holding his breath down in the deep end, hiding from me.

Goddammit, I _**am**_ his Captain and I actually need to see him. I grab the rookie, request that he pass on a message to Piers that if his ass isn't in my room in ten minutes, a surprise _**will **_be given; and not one that he'll want to accept.

Thankfully, he still recognizes my position, because there's a knock at my door, and I only sent the rookie off about ten minutes ago.

"Good to see you won't keep your Captain waiting," I nod as I let him in.

Piers immediately shuffles past me into the room, standing straight but with his back to me. "Something you wanted, Sir?"

"Look at me, Piers." The command in my voice is unmistakable, and the kid immediately rotates on his heels, his eyes boring into mine.

He's completely on edge, most likely wondering what tragic jokes I've readied my arsenal with to shoot at him, but I've no intentions of anything like that. Matter of fact, I wanted to apologize, but it would seem as if my mind's blank with the exact words that had been all set to be spoken until I actually found myself under the scrutiny of his stare.

Christ. Those eyes. And those lips. Those are the same lips that were wrapped so perfectly around the head of my cock last night. My feet move of their own accord and bring me a meter closer. I must look a sight: Gaze hard, breath quickening, face flushing.

Why did I ask him to come here? To apologize? I _**do**_ want to apologize, but I just keep taking step after step until Piers' uncomfortable aura is palpable as he takes several steps back. But one step is a miss and it sends him tripping backwards, his arms flailing out to catch himself, which only results in him landing on his stomach.

I reach out to help him up, but I freeze. What the hell...?

He attempts to push himself up, but I kneel beside him and place a firm hand between his shoulder blades, keeping him on all fours.

"Nivans? What are you wearing?"

I can feel his body tense to the point of snapping underneath my palm, but he does nothing otherwise.

"Nivans?"

"What are you talking about, Captain?" God bless him, he's trying to keep his voice even, but I can hear the mortification rippling through his words.

"This..." Keeping one hand on his back, I use my free one to pull his shirt up a bit, then push his pants down just a little. There. Black lace. I knew I saw it. "What are you wearing?"

He tries to push away but I refuse to allow it, pressing down harder on his back.

Something in me snaps. I have to see it. Letting him go, I watching him scramble to his feet, but I stay kneeling.

The kid's face is bright red, his eyes wide and not meeting mine.

"Let me see 'em." I'm not playing around. Not only that, but I'm starting to get turned on just at the thought of what's beneath the kid's khakis.

"Sir?" he chokes.

"Let me see 'em, Nivans." I can't give him a direct order, but that's not what I want, anyway. He's gotta feel _**something**_ for me, all things considered. Right? He's got to have enough lust for me that taking his pants off should be no big deal.

Although, how mortified was he when he realized what happened? He avoided me all day. Of course, that might just be because he has no idea how I feel about all of this.

Shit, all I know is that, right now, I have to get those pants off of him. I'm on my knees; begging isn't so far-fetched of an idea right now.

"Please, Nivans?" It's not quite begging, but there's an unmistakable huskiness to my voice now.

I can see the rise and fall of Piers' chest quickening, his hands shaking slightly at his sides. I resign to my fate of nothing happening when those shaking hands suddenly begin rising, making their way to his belt, those talented fingers unlatching the leather band before unbuttoning his pants.

"Slowly," I murmur. Goddammit, if this is really happening, I want to enjoy it.

The kid listens. The zipper's opened at an almost painfully slow pace, the top of his pants peeled down slightly on the sides to reveal the first glimpse of the lingerie.

Christ. He's really wearing black lace panties.

Inch by inch he peals away the material until he pools at his feet and he steps out of it.

"Now the shirt."

He says nothing, but his eyes never leave my face now as he pulls the polo over his torso, another piece of satin coming into view.

A negligee. Fuck, I can feel myself getting painfully hard just looking at him, the black a stark contrast to his smooth, milky skin.

Beautiful.

I don't know why he's wearing the lingerie. Frankly, I don't give a shit. The one thing I do know is that he's not allowed to take it off; not now, at least.

Making sure my tone is anything but harsh, I gesture for him to come closer. My hands immediately grab his firm hips the moment he's close enough and I nuzzle his half-hard cock through the satin, earning a gasp.

"C-captain!"

"Chris." I, murmur, peering up at him from my spot on the floor. "I'm not your Captain right now." One hand finds its way into the panties, wrapping around growing arousal. "Do you have any idea how sexy you look right now?"

"I..." His voice pitches as my fingers begin sliding up and down his length. "I..."

"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you? What I almost did to you last night? And now, seeing you like this..." In a split-second of next to no rational thought, I decide to finally give him the treat he's most certainly earned. Before he can respond, I push aside the panties, pulling out his cock and giving the head a quick lick.

"Chris!"

"Good boy," I chuckle. "Make sure you scream it when I make you come."

Piers' fingers find themselves locked in a death-grip with my hair as his cock his immersed in the wet heat of my mouth.

I've only fooled around with one other guy before, but I remember being good at this. Not that I'm stroking my own ego or anything.

Piers is intoxicating. I wanted to drag this out, but it's impossible. My lips and tongue are flying over his cock, wanting nothing more than to have him spill in my mouth, needing to hear him scream in release.

My hair feels as if it's going to be ripped from my scalp as he tightens his grip, curses and praises spilling from his lips as he tries to stay standing.

With one hand fondling his sac, I let my free hand reach behind him, massaging his ass before dipping beneath the lingerie and running a finger between his round cheeks. Finding his entrance, one finger circles the puckered hole, gingerly dipping inside.

I moan around Piers' cock at the feel of my finger slipping inside of him, relishing the tight heat I'm greeted with. When Piers hips begin thrusting wantonly into my mouth, I slip another finger in his ass, seeking that one spot...

"Fuck, Chris!"

Found it. I massage that bundle of nerves deep inside of him relentlessly as he fucks my mouth, my eyes never leaving his face.

His eyes are closed, head thrown back, pure ecstasy etched over his features. I need him to come. I can't go without tasting him.

My fingers begin a quick in-and-out, making sure to touch his prostrate with each motion, and I can feel him tensing more and more by the second until his hands fall to my shoulders and he scream my name loud enough for the surrounding rooms to hear.

Removing my fingers from his ass, I focus on swallowing every bit of seed he releases, licking his cock one last time before allowing him to crumple on the floor before me, his breathing so hard I'm almost tempted to go fetch him some water.

He just stares at me for a long while before leaning over and drawing my lips to his.

Nothing's said. But, what could be said? God knows we need to talk about it, but I'm not pushing the issue now.

I'll let us have this moment. Besides, I really want to keep looking at him dressed like this for just a while longer.


End file.
